CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Winters’s cell phone buzzed across the table, moving closer and closer to the edge. It was a cliff over the hardwood floor, and he’d let it careen off without hesitation. If it shattered, he’d have an excuse for not answering.
He heard the front door and knew his mom arrived. Another person he could ignore. This day hadn’t hit the bottom yet. She walked past him at the kitchen table and threw him a pitying smile. “Haven’t seen you since I took Clara with me on some errands last week, and you’re about as peachy as I saw you last. Is the baby napping?”
Winters grunted, digging at his fingernails with a tactile knife. There wasn’t dirt, blood, or grit to remove. He hadn’t been in the field since South America. Still, he moved on to the next fingernail. It was a nervous tic. Something to occupy his hands or his mind.
“Seen the guys?” she asked.
“You mean after that debacle you orchestrated with Cash last week? Nope.”
“Seen anyone lately?”
“Nope.”
She hovered. It made his skin crawl. Since he’d been home from the hospital, this was her modus operandi. Stand and watch. Stand and watch. Nothing said, but lots to say.
“Colby…”
Shit. Friendly fire was never friendly, and it was coming. Operation Stand and Watch was over. Did that mean Operation Bust His Balls was on deck?
He opted to go on silent mode and continue his weaponized manicure.
“Colby, you about ready to cut the crap?”
And Operation BHB was a go. He didn’t have the inclination to sit around for a lecture, so he stood. “Thanks, Mom. You don’t need to swing by if you don’t want to.”
She shook her head. “One day. You get one more day being a little tart before you’re done.”
“Christ, I don’t need this from you.” He fell back into his seat and stared at the ceiling.
“You do, ’cause no one’s giving it to you like they should.”
“Give me a—”
“You aren’t the only one in this family who knows how to kick ass. And now you’ve been warned.”
“Mom, leave it alone.” Yelling at his mother was the wrong thing to do, but here he was, ready to yell. “You don’t know what’s going on.”
“I know Mia.” She stalked over to him. “She’s the best thing in your life, next to Clara, and you’re hell bent on ruining it. If you haven’t done so already.”
“She’s not safe with me.” Why was this so hard for everyone to understand, and why did it even matter to them? “I did this for her.”
“That’s baloney, son, and you know it.”
He sheathed the knife and spun it on the table like a one-person game of spin the bottle. His frustration bumped up another level, into the red zone.
“What the hell am I supposed to do?” He was harsher than he wanted. An out of control panic pushed at him.
“You don’t have a plan, so you sit here, watching hours drift by? That’s not my son.”
“Shit, Mom. I just don’t know what to do.” He slammed his hands on the table and pinched his eyes closed. He needed a deep breath, but all that came were escalating angry ones. He opened his eyes, and his mother had her hands planted on her hips.
“Simple. Take that fire and fix what you broke.”
“Simple my ass.” What would he say? Mia would tell him to skip straight to hell, and he deserved that and worse. He kneaded the edge of the table. Anxious energy toyed with him.
“Colby, you’re getting one more day with your foul language. Then I’m done with that, too.”
“Mom, I struggle with…” He sagged. Where would he even begin?
“Things you can’t control? Things that you didn’t plan? Things that haven’t gone the Colby Winters way? Want me to keep going?”
No need for him to make the list. She apparently came prepared. Winters rubbed his jaw. “I’m crappy with things that I care about.”
She sighed. It wasn’t pitying as much as contemplative. “Oh, I don’t think that’s true. You’re amazing with Clara.”
“I didn’t have much choice with Clara.”
“Yes, you did, and you took it like a soft-hearted brute. Clara was the best thing that happened to you. Until Mia. Now, you’ve got two best things. Hopefully, one is still waiting for you.”
“She’s not waiting for me.”
“A broken-hearted woman might wait, hoping.”
“You don’t know Mia. She’s not the broken-hearted type.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Judith looked like she had more to say, but left it at that, and went about tidying the empty counter, picking at non-existent crumbs. “You have to man up and deal with your mess.”
There she was with a stick, poking him in the eye. “Man up? Come on.”
“Whatever you guys call it. Man up. Get your panties out of a wad. Put on your big boy shorts. Grow a set.”
“That’s the last thing Mia said to me.” He fought the stomachache that surfaced anytime he recounted his brilliant plan of avoidance.
“Smart woman.”
“Yeah. She’s smart. But not smart enough to run from me.”
“Lose the pity party, son. If Clara hadn’t arrived on your doorstep, we wouldn’t have grown close, and we wouldn’t have conversations like this. But we have, and we are. This is my opportunity to tell you that two wonderful girls are a part of your life.”
“She’s gone. I chased her away.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t take you for a wimp. And I never thought you’d walk away from a worthy fight.”
“What?” He didn’t expect for her to break out the name-calling. Everyone else but not her.
“You’re a superhero to the world, but when it comes down to it, I guess you’re scared.”
“Leave it alone.”
“I don’t know whether to feel ashamed I raised you like this or—”
“Christ, Mom. Back off.”
“You’re going to let her wander into someone else’s arms? There’s another man who could protect her better than you? Well, if that’s true—”
“Goddamn it.” Angry thumps of blood pounded in his ears, flooded his veins. His chest felt on the verge of explosion. Like hell another man would hold Mia, protect her, and care for her. He’d kill any man who tried.
Judith nodded toward the garage. “I’ve got Clara. See ya.”
Winters grabbed his cell phone and jumped from the table, knocking the chair over.
His phone buzzed in his hand. Fuck. Would people stop bothering him already? Winters grabbed the keys for his blacked-out, pumped-up truck. It suited his mood. Dark and ready to get the job done.
“Jared, what the hell do you want?” That roar should put a stop to the incessant, badgering calls. Get a clue, man. He was tired of everyone hanging on his nuts.
“This isn’t Jared.”
Mia’s short retort slammed him in the gut, and his heart jumped clear into his mouth. Christ almighty, he missed that woman.
“Mia, where are you?”
“Why?” She was quiet. Wary. Why did she call? Hell, who cared? She called, and that was all that mattered. If he could hear her for the rest of his life, it wouldn’t be long enough.
“Right now, doll. Where are you?”
He planned to go all alpha on her if she didn’t fess up in seconds. He needed to locate her fast. And fast wasn’t fast enough.
“At home. Why?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Do. Not. Move.”
“You don’t even know where I live.”
“The hell I don’t.” He really should tone it down, or he’d scare her.
“You’re not invited.”
“Tough.”
“You’re at least a thirty minute drive from me.”
“Time me.” He checked his watch.
“I don’t want to see you. Come to my office tomorrow.”
Winters clicked off his phone. He didn’t want to know now why she called. She could say it to his face. Anything so that he had a fighting chance. His guts churned. Need spiked with overwhelming, raw emotion, making his muscles ache and his brain fuzzy. He skidded out the corner of his driveway, sliding sideways before he redlined the truck. Ten minutes. There was no doubt.